


A gift from the heart

by Bluemoondreams, PhoenixDiamond



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Dancing and Singing, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemoondreams/pseuds/Bluemoondreams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDiamond/pseuds/PhoenixDiamond
Summary: Poppy breaks Creek's favourite CD on which was a song his mother used to sing and she is determined to make up for this even if it means dragging Branch into the mess she has made.





	A gift from the heart

We don’t own anything here, this is a collaboration between myself and PhoenixDiamond. Warnings of fluff, romance and two males in love eventually. We hope you will all enjoy this late winter gift from the both of us to all our readers!

*~*A Gift from the Heart*~*

Poppy was so angry with herself, she had broken one of Creek’s most treasured possessions a recording of a song sung by a male troll called let it snow, the purple troll loved this song because his mother Lilac used to sing it to him before she was taken as so many had been by Trollstice. Despite Creek telling Poppy not to worry about the fact she had broken the CD she knew that the guru was actually heartbroken over the loss of the CD and this made her feel even worse for what had happened. The princess was determined to make things right for her friend, Poppy went to the village music shop as she entered it the owner a bright yellow female troll with orange hair in a bun looked up from stocking the shelves and smiled at the pink troll. “Hello Poppy, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for a particular song Symphony, I hope you might be able to help me.” The princess told her with a small smile for the shop owner.

“Well do you know the title and the singer?” The older troll asked tilting her head to one side and looking at the other female troll curiously.  
Poppy quickly answered this question. “I don’t know the singer it’s a male though and the song is called let it snow.”

Symphony frowned in thought, she went over to the counter and pulled out a draw with cards in it muttering as she went through them. “Let it snow…Let it snow…Ah ha! Here we go. Huh…It was only ever recorded once by Willow Brilliance, that’s unusual the song must have been so good no other troll wanted to recorded another version. Oh…Oh no…”

“What Symphony…What’s wrong?” Poppy asks the older troll.

The orange hair troll looked at the princess with sad eyes. “We don’t have any more copies, the song was recorded before we left the troll tree…”

The princess sagged and then said very sadly to the other troll. “What am I going to do…I’ve ruined midwinter for Creek and I can’t fix it!”

Suddenly a thought came to Symphony. “Wait…I remember…Willow had a son…”

“Do you think he might be able to help me?” The pink troll asked hopefully.

“I’m not sure he will, you see Willow’s son is Branch.” The orange haired troll told her, the voice of the older troll was soft and then after a few moments of silence she spoke again. “I’ve never told you this but I knew Branch before he became grey…That boy had the most amazing voice, even better than his fathers. If anyone has a copy or even maybe lyrics you and your friends can work from it would be Branch…But you know how he can be, getting him to help you might be hard if not impossible.”

“I have to try!” Poppy said before she shot out of the shop, the pink troll made her way to the bunker and hammered on the entrance. “Branch! Branch! BRANCH I KNOW YOU’R IN THERE!”

The slit opened and the grey troll looked out of it at her. “What do you want Poppy?”

The princess answered this question with a blush on her cheeks, sadness in her pink eyes and a stutter to her voice. “Can I come in…I really need your help with something…Please Branch.”

As the grey troll noticed the sadness in the eyes of the usually totally happy troll the survivalist opened up the hatch to the bunker and held a hand out to the princess. “Here take my hand.”

Poppy took the hand offered to her by the other troll, Branch helped her down into the bunker, before taking the princess into the living room, sitting her down on the sofa and then saying to Poppy with an unusual kindness in his voice. “What wrong? I’ve never seen you upset like this before now.”

The princess explained to him why she was so upset. “I was talking to Creek and I knocked his CD off of the shelf…It was the one with the song on it that his mother used to sing to him. He said that it didn’t matter that I broke it but I know it does…After all it was all Creek had left of Lilac…I feel so bad about it Branch. I went to Symphony’s shop hoping she had a copy to replace the one I broke, but the song was recorded before we left the troll tree and had only ever been sung by once and by one singer your father.”

“Creek liked one of my father’s songs?” Branch asked the pink troll, feeling completely stunned by what the princess was telling him.

“Yes, it was called let it snow…Do you know that song?” Poppy asked him softly and hopefully.

Branch nodded at her, a nostalgic feeling came over him as the pink troll mentioned this song and a small smile turned up his lips. “Yes, I know that song. I’m afraid that I don’t have a recording of the song, but I do have the original lyrics my father wrote.”

“Could I borrow them?” The pink troll asked the grey hopefully.

The survivalist shook his head and then said sadly. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t want it to be lost as they are the only copy…But I could make a copy for you.”

“Really! That would be great Branch!” Poppy said enthusiastically before throwing her arms around Branch and hugging him hard. “Creek will be so happy to have the song back!”

“I do have a question.” Branch said to the pink troll as she released him from the hug.

“What?” The princess asked him with concern.

“Who are you planning to have sing the song? I ask because my father had a very…unusual voice, not many trolls could sing like him, you may find it hard to find a troll able to sing this the song the way it should be.” Branch told her as gently as he could.

Poppy gave him a determined look, she refused to be put off from her quest by the other troll and said to the grey troll. “I’m sure I can find some troll who can sing this song perfectly.”

The survivalist gave her a nod. “Well good luck, I’ll write the lyrics up tonight and you can come back for them tomorrow.”

“Thank you Branch.” The princess jumped up, her excitement clear as she dashed back out of the bunker.

The grey troll sighed softly and shook his head, Poppy would never change, Branch went over to some of his hidden shelves and brought out a box inside which were his father’s lyrics. The survivalist carefully made his way through them, as he did so his lips turned up ever so slightly and a nostalgic feeling swept over him. There were so many memories in this one box, he could picture his father sitting in the living room of his old home writing a song and slowly a tear leaked its way out of Branch’s eye before he had realised it. Once the grey troll realised he was crying the survivalist brushed this tear away, he set to work copying over the lyrics onto music sheets, as Branch worked was totally unaware of the fact that he begins to hum the melody of this song. The survivalist found it strange to think that Creek enjoyed one of his father’s songs, but at the same time he felt sympathy towards the purple troll for the first time, Branch of all trolls knew what it was like to lose your family and have precious little to remember them by. By the time that the grey troll had finished working on making a copy of the lyrics of his father’s song he found himself wanting to help Poppy, it was an unusual sensation to him, but Branch knew if it were him, he would hope other trolls would assist him.

When Poppy returned to the bunker the grey troll was waiting for her in the clearing around the bunker with the copy of the lyrics of the song. “Hey Branch. Thanks for this.” The princess told the trolls gratefully as she accepted the sheets of music from him.

“You are welcome. So, who is going to sing this song?” Branch asked her curiously.

The pink troll sighed and answers this question from the male troll. “I don’t know yet, the snack pack are all willing to help with the music. Hopefully once Suki has seen the lyrics she can give me some advice on who could sing and how this song should be played.”

The grey troll gave her a nod. “Sounds wise, if you need any more help or advice with this then let me know.”

“Thanks Branch, I’ll be sure to come to you if we run into any problems.” Poppy told him with a warm smile, she felt grateful that Branch was willing her to help her with Creek, considering the way these two male trolls were usually around each other she found herself feeling hopeful that maybe the purple troll and the grey troll could become friends at last. There was however part of the princes which felt that if the simmering passion she was sure she noticed between them was finally explored that maybe they would become a couple, this was something Poppy felt would be wonderful for both Creek and Branch. The princess started to wonder if there was someway in which she could use this situation to bring them closer together and this made Poppy start to plot a plan of action.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

“Darling, I already said this isn’t necessary,” Creek leans in close, and lowers his voice a pinch above a whisper. “And I’d appreciate you not going around telling the entire village about my plight. With you scouring the shop pods for this song might put others in the wrong mind frame.” Creek snorts. “As if we don’t already have enough rumours going about the village about our relationship. No further misunderstandings, if you please?” 

Poppy sighs. “Gosh, you’re being difficult.” 

“I am not. I’m being practical. It was just a song. Nothing to get worked up over.”

“Don’t you care that I ruined your childhood?” Poppy persistently asks for the third or maybe fourth time. Creek lost a care in keeping count at this point. They have more important priorities to deal with at the current moment. “If you’d broken my much-loved disc, I’d have shoved you off the closest cliff!” 

“See, that’s where we differ, darling.” Creek pokes his head out from the hallway where he’d been pinning garnishes on the walls. “I’m able to get over it and sensibly realize that it’s silly to dwell on sentimental nonsense.” There was a soft noise made and he ducks out of view. “Besides, no amount of singing it every season’s past is going to bring my mother back. I’m only hurting myself by refusing to let her spirit rest.” 

Poppy looks up at hearing the mellowing in Creek’s tone. The long string of popcorn can wait and she lays it to the side, dusting off her woolly snow dress and goes to peer around the bend. Creek’s kneeling on the floor, slowly ripping bits of tape off to press on the garnish. Seeing her there, he attempts to adjust his mood by lifting his chin to new heights and he couldn’t appear haughtier than just now. 

“Yes?” he asks. 

Poppy comes to bend her knees next to him and reaches out to take one of his hands. Creek’s lips press into a grim line. “Oh Creek.” 

“That had better not be pity I hear,” he sneers and adds ambiguously, “Perhaps you should re-evaluate who’s really the one doing the mourning here.” 

“I don’t need to know how much it hurt to see me crush your mother’s song. I-oh Creek- I feel so horrible.” Poppy brings their interlocked hands to her brow, and rubs side to side. “I worked all day to figure out some type of retribution. Anything to help you feel better.”   
Creek sighs long and frustrated. “Poppy—”

“I worked out something in place of your favourite song; something to help fix my mistake.” 

Creek clamps his mouth shut, blinking rapidly. “You. . .really how?” 

Poppy smiles at the hope he accidentally slips out. “It took forever, but I managed to find out who sung it.” 

“I already know who. Willow Brilliance. Don’t you think I’d have this information?"

“Yes, but what if I told you I know someone who can sing it?”

“What use is it to have someone else sing it?” inquires Creek. “He was an improvisational singer. No one can match his range or rhythmic intervals—trust me, I’ve tried to do it and wound up embarrassing myself something awful.” 

“What if I said this someone can sing as well as he did? Someone who can contest his voice with just as much jazz?” 

“I’d say I’d like the same herbs you’ve been smoking for that imagination to be so wild.” 

Poppy sighs hard enough to make her lips flap. “Don’t be a jerk. I’m serious. I did some digging around and you know, spruced some magic here and there and managed to scrounge up the perfect substitute.”

Creek feels a flare of hope bloom inside him. His face then lessens to a sceptical simper. “Say I believe you,” he leans towards her, lowering his voice, “Who on earth could possibly sing that beautifully? I mean, Willow was. . . my mother was. . .” he closes his eyes, sinking back on his heels, “Their voices are unrivalled. And in the slim chance I do go along with this crazy scenario, I’m not up for any disappointment.” 

“You won’t be!” Poppy happily vows, springing to her feet. “You know why? Because he’s going to knock your socks off when you hear his voice.” 

Creek rises as well, following her hasty retreat towards his door. “Wait, wait, wait—he? A guy? Who? Poppy hold on. Don’t leave. Who is it?” 

“You’ll see!” 

“Don’t keep me in suspense. At least tell me who I have to thank for being so generous?!”

Poppy darts out the door before Creek can grab her by the hair. 

He blinks in a mild stupor at the space between his front door and living room, scratching his head. Just what on earth is that girl up to?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Absolutely, not! No freaking way!” 

“Come on, Branch, why not?” 

“Because I hate Creek, duh!” 

Poppy watches Branch pace jerkily from one end of his bunker to the other, fists clenched and swinging in sync to his stride. She props an elbow on his dingy couch, muttering incoherently under her breath. 

Branch does an abrupt spin in his walk to level his scowl on the pink troll. “Do you have any idea what’ll happen if I go along with this? He’ll laugh me off the stage! And that aside, I’m not lookin’ to be the centre of anyone’s attention. I prefer my life being quiet and without the hassle of being harassed into singing one of your scores!” 

“But Branch—”

“Don’t you ‘but Branch’ me, princess!” 

Poppy pouts cutely, batting her long lashes. 

Branch scoffs. “You’ve got the wrong one today, sweetheart. I’m one hundred percent resistant to emotional manipulation. Ipso facto, totally immune to any and all adorable attempts to convince me into doing a favour for my most hated enemy!” 

Poppy rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, you don’t hate Creek that much.” 

“Ha!” Branch folds his arms. “Does Guy’s crap shine bright like a diamond?” 

The princess slaps a hand over her face, then moves her hand to mop her banes from her eyes. “I could really use your help with this, Branch. Creek’s hurt about losing his favourite disc. If I weren’t so desperate, I wouldn’t ask you to do this. But it’ll mean the world to him to hear his mother’s song again.” 

Branch peers at her, as he often does when contemplating on a tough decision that will invade his comfort zone. He sighs, tossing his head back dramatically, “Poppy,” he miserably sags, “why do you have to do this to me? Asking me to sing for that creep? I’d rather eat my toes.” 

Poppy calmly pats the space next to her on his couch. Branch’s ears twitch, he looks to the side, then stubbornly makes his way over before hopping on and scooting as close to the armrest as he can. Then he folds a hand under his chin and huffs, rolling his wrist for her to speak if she’s going to. 

“Give me credit for knowing you might be against the idea.” Poppy shuffles her feet, rocking them in thought. “I guess I should have known better. Creek’s never been kind to you and you’ve never actually tried to make friends with him.” 

Branch grumbles, saying nothing verbal and continues starring at the farthest stack of preservative jars. 

“I just thought you wouldn’t mind doing this one small gift for someone else who’s hurting as much as you. . . His mother used to sing it every Christmas. He lost her before the Great Escape from Bergen Town. Just like how you lost your family.” 

“Don’t do that,” Branch sharply retorts. “I don’t appreciate you using my trauma for leverage. Creek’s gotten on just fine these years.” 

“You say that because?”

“Because he’s not grey!” 

Poppy glares. “Just because he isn’t grey doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting!” 

Branch’s eyebrows shoot past upwards as she says this so angrily. He’s never heard Poppy raise her voice before. It is understandable, perhaps, that she’ll feel defensive of Creek since they’re friends or in a relationship or whatever. But she doesn’t have to yell at him.

“You’re horribly insensitive, Branch,” she goes on to say, tone softer and stern. “I thought someone like you would be able to relate to what Creek is going through.”

“I do know!” 

“Then why won’t you sing?” 

“Because I hate singing. I already told you what happened with my grandma. Or is it because it’s Creek, I’m expected to kiss the dirt his feet walk on and forget the decades of mental torture he’s put me through?” 

“No, but—”

“Screw that. Screw all of that. I’m not for it, Poppy. End of discussion.” 

Poppy’s mind works hard. Then a small smile plays on her lips. “I probably should have mentioned that he wanted to apologise to you.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he does. . .” Branch suddenly perks up. “Huh?” 

“Yeah, I was over at his place yesterday and we got on the topic of you—”

Curiosity crawls on Branch’s skin like spider legs. “How’d you get on the subject of me?” 

“Creek brought you up. It’s silly though.” Poppy makes to stand, stretching out her arms. “I know you don’t want to know about how bad he’s felt all these years and what he wouldn’t give to make amends. Nope, no way. Anyway, I need to get out of here. Biggie’s got some cupcakes baking with my name on them. See ya!”   
Poppy skips merrily towards the bunker’s platform, casually steps on, then walks her fingers up the level, mentally counting. ‘Five. . . four. . . three. . . two. . .’ She pushes the switch forward and feels the gears and mechanical mechanisms purr to life. Then she’s hoisted up, humming a tune. 

“UGH!” Is Branch’s frustrated growl before he comes sprinting to the base of the dumbwaiter, shaking his fist. “I’m only gonna do this because you won’t stop breaking into my bunker. I could care less about Creek’s stupid feelings!” 

“Yep, yep, uh-huh.” Poppy checks the smooth filed ends of her fingers. “Appreciate it, my man!” she calls back down. “Be at the Mushroom Stage on Christmas Eve, seven o’clock, sharp. Thanks babe!” 

“You’re not welcome, you twisted troll!” 

Poppy cackles like the kind of spoiled brat accustomed to getting what they want. And in a way, she feels like she’s accomplished more than one task for Branch and Creek. A silly smirk spreads on her face. She wonders if there’s more there then that hatred.

From how Branch changed his mind in record time, she doesn’t doubt it in the slightest. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Creek feels his attention being divided in two directions as he carefully manoeuvred his way through the hustle and bustle. Between the groups of trolls fixing situating long silver and blue streamers between the higher canopy and a team of noisy ones arranging dangling snowflakes that shimmered so the sparkles off the glitter created the effect of a kaleidoscope reflection on the snow powdered ground, Creek wasn’t sure what fascinated him more. It’s all coming together much better than he anticipated. Poppy’s certainly exceeded all his expectations; as can be expected from the village’s most decorative princess. 

Creek takes at seat on one of the wooden benches positioned directly in front of the mushroom stage, absently wrapping his red scarf tighter around his neck and bundling his dark brown bomber jacket as a chilly breeze blows through. He decided to arrive a few minutes before the performance to have a front row seat. There’s a schedule made out for several songs to be sung this evening, but he only plans to attend long enough to see who Poppy managed to coax into singing his mother and his favourite Christmas song. None of the possibly culprits fit the criteria of what Creek would consider a qualified singer. 

That leaves him with a blank. That only serves to make him twice as eager. Poppy seems so darn impressed and sure that this troll can sing like Willow Brilliance. Call Creek the sceptical sort, but a small part of him is holding out on being discouraged. Just in case it turns out to be a downer, he can still appreciate the effort.   
Twenty minutes into waiting and carrying conversations with the other trolls who arrived and take the seats surrounding him, the stage is finally set, the curtains rising as high as the lowest hanging tree branch, and the mushroom stage’s elevated and cast to provide a great view of the performers. Creek quietly excuses himself from a conversation with Aspen and Clay to pay attention when an applause sounds when their host, Princess Poppy and Biggie step onto the stage with fuzzy beetle microphones. 

“Hello, everybody!” Poppy loudly addresses, enthusiastically waving. “How’s it going for you tonight?” 

A chorus of positive energy bursts out. 

“I’m so glad to hear you’re all having a great evening, because tonight, we have a whole slew of great stuff for your special entertainment!” 

“That’s right, Poppy darling!” says Biggie, “And let me tell you guys, the selections we have arranged for you will blow your minds. In fact, we have a few surprises in store for all of you to enjoy, but none more than what will come from our first performance!” 

“I’ll say,” laughs Poppy. “This one promises to really rock the pod.” 

The audience is a buzz with excitement, murmuring rising and laughter heard as some hands clap. Creek shifts on the bench, feeling the dull roar of the crowd sink in him like hot chocolate. Goodness, he can’t wait to find out who it is. The suspense is making him antsy. 

“So, without further ado,” Poppy playfully drags, moonwalking towards the great red curtain. “Here is tonight’s first singer, the one, the only, you all know and love him as our grumpy village grey boy. . . . BRANCH!” 

Creek’s whole face goes slack with shock. “Say what?!” He jumps to his feet, astounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s who she has singing? Is this a joke?” he looks around, asking anyone who’s listening. “Tell me this is some elaborate prank.” 

“Nothing that I’ve heard of,” murmurs Aspen, shrugging, “but it’s bound to be interesting to see.” 

“If some of us can get a look!” Teresa, sitting behind Creek, stands to press her hands in his shoulders and makes him sit down. “Down in front with that oversized melon!” 

Creek glares over his shoulder. “I certainly wouldn’t talk, madam!” 

“Shhhh!” 

Creek flushes. “Sorry,” he whispers and sinks low and folds his arms. He is going to kill Poppy. Whatever he’d done to earn this type of treatment, he guarantees he’ll return the favour tenfold. And here he thought she actually held some remorse for breaking his disc. Well, he’ll teach her a thing or two about getting his hopes up.   
The lights dim to a scarce scatter of recessed star-sparkling floor lights, beaming along the seam of the mushroom’s enormous platform, the purr of the music’s stirring from moderate sized fuzz-beat speakers. Much of the tension seeps out of Creek’s body like a rush of cool water as the familiar melody thrums out and he can’t resist nodding his head and smirking a bit. Well, at least he can enjoy the buoyant beat. 

The curtains draw away. Pale strips of radiant crimson, gold and emerald shine like strips of animated rope, whipping and lashing in a spiral of snowflakes. They rise, fall and spin, collecting the dazzling floodlights casting their enormous glow onto the singular focus on the stage: a shadowy figure craftily obscured by the drape of a long, flowing cape made of a pearly cloth. 

But Creek would recognize the silhouette if he were placed in a dark hole without an ounce of light. That dastardly dark black hair, the rare pointed appendages adjoining either side of his head and that grey skin. 

Sporadic motion lightning haloes in a fine blue outline over Branch’s body, overwhelming his outer appearance in a sheen so pristine and . . . an enchanting shade of aqua teal, Creek feels a warmth spreading in his face. And it becomes more prominent when the grey troll spins around to flip off his cape, unveiling a gleaming white tuxedo with sterling gilt trimmings and tapdancing shoes. 

The drugged throbbing beats bebop with an addictive zest. Branch catches a microphone tossed from behind and holds it above his head, mouth agape.

And he sucks in . . . 

Creek holds his breath. 

Then something unexpected happens. . . something Creek could have never been prepared for if he were told it would have ten years ago. 

Branch rocks his shoulders and kicks out. “Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is sooooo delightful. Since there’s no place to go, let it now, let it snow, let it snow!” He kicks his heels, climbing down the stairs in a slippery stride. 

“It doesn’t show signs of stopping and I brought some corn for popping. The lights are turned down low, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” 

Creek openly gapes, hands clenched so tight, they may as well be glued. He never knew— never had an inkling—how powerful a voice Branch possessed. Watching him, hearing him, discovering this bottled up side of him reveal itself this way, it’s all magic in action.

Creek grits his teeth. And for bloody sakes, the grey idiot can dance too?

Somewhere amid being pleasantly disturbed by these turn of events, the audience’s chorales in a series of ‘ohhs’ and ‘ahhs’ and laughter, because when Creek focuses in himself, Branch is right in front of him, holding out his hand. Creek gives an honest to goodness squeak, hands flying to his mouth with shock.  
“When we finally kiss good night, how I’ll hate going out in the storm.” Branch doesn’t stay waiting for long. Creek meekly offers his hand and finds himself pulled up to his feet and twirled in place. “But if you really hold me tight.” Branch brings Creek close and taps his nose. “All the way home I’ll be warm, oh!” 

“Hey!” Creek swats at him. 

Branch dances out of reach with a wink. “The fire is slowly dying, but my dear we’re still good bye-ing, and as long as you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” 

Creek stares after Branch’s wagging shoulders and swaying stride before the crowd, waving his free hand out to gauge them into joining his festive caper. The purple troll is almost amused by the grey troll’s antics; how he goes from different troll’s teasing and playfully tugging at their hair with his own as he stepped between the stands. But then he eventually returns to the front with eyes solely on Creek and seeing him be a tease is, dare Creek confess, adorable. 

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Branch brings the mic to his mouth, sweet tones building to a gorgeous crescendo. “let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, no, no, no, NO, NO!!!!” 

Fireflies burst from closed paper flowers buds dangling off the trees above and swarmed the whole stage and haloed around Branch’s head, and a couple land on his shoulders as he shifts into a scat beat, “Da, bada badadada DA. Badadada, da, da, da, da, da, da, DA!”

“Oh yeah, come on now!” Branch kicks his heels, turns around and starts wide claps. “Lemme get everybody on their feet. That’s it!” 

Everybody rises, joining in sync to his open hand claps. Creek gazes around, bewildered. He’s never seen anyone as happy about this song as he was. Now, here Branch is spreading the love like it is as natural as breathing. What a troll. 

The fireflies’s high pitched voices sweetly whistle and cavort with dazzling translucent wings, zing zagging and corkscrewing in the air. “Da, bada badadada doda doda da da, badadada, da, da, da, da, da, da, DA!”

Branch comes to a brief stop in front of Creek, holding out his hand, and Creek takes it without hesitation. “When we finally kiss goodnight, oh how I hate going out in the storm.” He spins him as before, but brings the purple troll close so his back is pressed firm to Branch’s chest. “But if you really hold me tight, all the way home, I’ll be warm. I said all the way home, I’ll be warm OH!” 

Creek can’t help blushing. When did Branch develop so much charisma and sex appeal? 

Then Branch turns Creek to face him and cups his cheek, uplifting just at the right angle. And their eyes meet for a long, searching while. 

“It doesn’t show signs of stopping, but I brought some corn for popping, the lights are turned way down low, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”  
Creek quickly turns his head to the side and kisses Branch’s fingers. 

Branch flinches and pulls his hand back. Creek smirks. Seems he wasn’t prepared for that. 

He blinks and simply stares, slightly thrown from his performance and blends back into form. “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, OH, LET. IT. SNOWWWW!!!” 

Willow. . . There it is. That’s it. Right there, the range and tone is perfect! Creek cheers with the rest of the trolls as they give a standing applause for Branch as he carries it’s note for as long as he can. When he comes to a soft end, the roar of the crowd is deafening. Creek whistles, clapping in a standing ovation. Branch was magnificent. Good God, he can’t believe he actually pieced together so many compliments with that name over the course of ten minutes. But it is as it is. And Branch is everything that Creek totally wasn’t prepared for. 

“I have to say something,” Creek whispers to himself, and moves to reach the troll. 

Who should have been on stage. Who should be somewhere in sight. 

But Branch isn’t anywhere. As Creek slowly looks around at the colourful bounds of hopping, laughing, cheering trolls, none of them fit Branch’s description. . . Where. . . where did he go?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Branch stood off stage breathing hard, he couldn’t believe he had just done that, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself…His father had once performed the song for him and now he’d just performed it exactly the same way. The grey troll smiled slightly to himself, then he remembered that Creek had seemed shocked to see him there and he knew right then and there that Poppy had lied to him remembering this whipped the smile right off of his face. Creek would probably laugh right at him for his horrible voice and that over the top show he had just performed and this made pain run through the grey troll. Determined not to be caught by the purple troll Branch quickly but quietly went back to the dressing room, once inside he shut the door behind him. The grey troll slipped out of the clothes the princess had given him, the grey troll pulled on his usual clothes and then left the dressing room. Despite thinking that the spiritual troll would mock him for today, the survivalist hoped that Creek had enjoyed his performance, Poppy had been right it had felt good to help the other troll even though they didn’t get along in the slightest.

The grey troll just hoped that the pink troll wouldn’t ask him to sing again, though he didn’t hold out much hope of this, Branch knew that the princess really wanted to replace that broken CD and Suki hadn’t recorded him singing let it snow tonight. The survivalist decided he would just have to hide out in the bunker until the obsession of the pink troll to replace the CD she had broken had passed by or was eclipsed by something else in her life. Quietly the grey troll made his way through the deserted troll village, glad that all of the other trolls were too involved in Poppy’s show to notice him going home.

Branch quickly made his way back to the bunker, he was determined not to come out of the safety of his home no matter what Poppy did to try and draw him out. The grey troll didn’t care that he had promised her that he would record the song for Creek, the princess had clearly lied to him about the other troll’s intention to apologies to him over their past, he should have known Creek would never get down from his high horse long enough to admit he had ever done any wrong towards him. 

As Branch had expected Poppy started banging on the hatch the next day, what he didn’t expect was for the princess to stay outside his bunker all day every day all day and refuse to leave the clearing around his home until nightfall, he’d never know the other troll to be so stubborn about something before now. 

One morning Poppy hammered even louder than before and began yelling at the other troll. “BRANCH GET OUT HERE! NOW! I AM NOT GOING AWAY! BRANCH!”

Branch sighs, it had been a week since the performance and still the princess was not giving up, having had more than enough of this behaviour from Poppy now, the grey troll muttered to himself as he wade his way up to the surface. “HERE I AM POPPY! WHAT IS IT?!”

Poppy didn’t answer this as soon as the pink troll set her sights on the black hair of the grey troll she grabbed it with her pink hair, the princess used all of her strength to pull him out of the bunker, then up into the air and when Poppy achieved this she spoke firmly to the struggling grey troll in her hair. “We are going to Suki’s studio, you are going to record let it snow for Creek and that is a command from your princess! Once you’re done I’ll let you go and I won’t bother you for two weeks!”

The survivalist glared at Poppy for a moment, folded his arms and then said with a huff to his voice and a pout on his lips. “Fine! I’ll obey mighty princess! After that I am going straight back home understood!”

The pink troll sighed deeply, she nodded at the male troll, the pink troll understood that Branch was upset with her for fibbing to him about Creek’s apology but still Poppy hadn’t been expecting this amount of anger from him after her little deception. Carefully she put the grey troll down on his feet, but kept her hair curled tightly around him so that Branch would not escape from her. The grey troll glared at the princess from within the firm hold of her hair as they walked through the troll village to get to Suki’s recording studio. When they arrived the DJ was waiting for them, she smiled at the sight of Branch being held captive by the hair of the pink troll and gestured them inside. “The recording booth is this way.” Suki told them and led the clearly unhappy Branch and the content Poppy to it, the orange haired troll opened the door to the booth, she turned to the other two trolls and addressed the survivalist. “In you go Branch.”

The princess used her hair to push the male troll into the booth, she let go of him, then pulled the door shut behind him and pointed at the headphones.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Branch stomps up to the microphone stand, lowers it down to his height and levels the pop filter. “When this is over, I’m gonna place charges on you for kidnapping, assault, and vocal extortion. You hear me, Poppy?” He promptly shakes his fist at the dark class before situating headphones around his ears. “DJ, you’re going down with her for accessory to my misery!” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” DJ mocks through the speaker set. “I’ll see you in court after we get this show poppin’. You ready to sing or nah?”   
“Just play the stupid music!” Branch is mad enough to shake the whole studio. No, better yet, he wants to blast through the window and fling the girls as far as he can, then escape. 

DJ has her chair tipped back from the workstation, her feet hooked under the rim to keep her there. “I hope all of this is worth it, babe. Branch’s attitude is ruinin’ my buzz.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Poppy assures, applying the appropriate tones, adjustments and customizing the beats as the beginning tunes filtered through the overhead speaker. When the last blends mix into the low humming basses, Poppy flickers the signal for Branch to get ready to sing. 

It takes several false starts before Branch is able to follow the rhythm, feel the music’s ambience and adapts accordingly. Closing his eyes, Branch presses the headphones to his ear with one hand and has the other placed on the microphone. 

The lyrics flow easier then last time. Maybe he has the privacy of the room to thank for it. Or maybe. . . maybe he’s reluctant to admit that he doesn’t mind creating an exclusive recording for Creek. Something about knowing he has access to something belonging to Branch’s father doesn’t bother him as much as it used to. He has a genuine appreciation for Willow’s craft. What’s so wrong with giving him something to remember the legend for? . . . 

Unbeknownst to Branch, as he melted into the music’s fluency, the acoustic thrums pulsing strange to his bones, another attendant has entered the studio, watching in silent awe. 

It seems a shame for a voice so gorgeous to have been locked away from everyone. If Creek had known sooner, he would have tried his hardest to bring out Branch’s confidence, so everyone could enjoy the whimsical flow of his voice, the sensual cajolery brought from the utterance of mere words. 

Creek walks up to the tinted glass, palm pressed to it’s cool surface. It probably looks like he’s bewitched, captivated, to DJ and Poppy. He is. Let it look exactly how it does. One cannot fake an attraction this immense. 

The flooding of warmth, listening to Branch’s voice be the cause of it, leaves Creek almost breathless. How long has he yearned to feel like this? It’s almost as if it’s a siren’s call, beckoning him into its accursed lure. 

Creek places the other hand there and is only marginally aware of how the shape and angle of his hands seem to cradle Branch’s face. He’s missed an opportunity. No doubt Branch won’t forgive him for being an ignorant, pompous ass towards him. 

And yet. . .

“OH. LET. IT. SNOWWWWW!” 

Creek shudders. Perhaps it’s not to late for redemption. Branch came here to record the music just for him, so. . . forgiveness may be possible. 

And more.

Branch removes the headphones, feeling exhilarated and tired and wondrous. Singing like that brought a world of relief to his inner spirit. It’s been so long since he allowed himself to sing like that and it feels amazing. 

The door to the studio opens. 

Branch places the headphones back in their cradle and sighs. He hopes Creek likes it. . .

“Branch.”

Branch whips around so fast, vertigo rattles his brain loose. It still doesn’t shake his vision enough to realize that it really is Creek coming through the door. Branch swallows, shoots a heated glare towards the window, fuming. Poppy will definitely feel his wrath when this is over.   
He looks to the purple troll, stepping back a step and folds his arms. “Creek, what can I do for you?”

Creek took a deep breath he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but he was going to try to apologise to Branch and try to make some sort of amends to the other male troll. So as his ears feel down slightly at the ends in an expression of regret and sadness he said to the grey troll. “I…That performance was amazing…Just…Just as amazing as it was when you sang last time…I’m sure if he had still been here your father would have been so proud of you. I had no idea you were hiding such a magnificent voice. I owe you a huge thank you for sing this song for me and a huge apology for everything I ever did to hurt you. I’m very sorry Branch.”

The grey troll was so started by these apologetic words that he didn’t quiet know what to say to the other male troll at first, slowly the folded arms dropped to Branch’s side, his eyes went wide and he gulped before saying. “Thank you, Creek. I didn’t expect you to say any of that to me.”

The ears of the spiritual troll drooped even further as the sadness of what he had done to Branch over the years bit at him hard stinging his insides. “I know…I should have said I was sorry to you a long time ago and I also should never have acted the way I did towards you…We both have a rough past…I should have supported you and tried to understand like Poppy did…Instead I was an utter idiot to you.”

Branch could see that the other male troll really did regret his actions towards him, he felt he could believe these words and forgive what the guru had done and so he said to Creek in a soft voice. “Yeah you were an idiot…But I wasn’t much better. So I’m sorry too.”

Bravely Creek gathered one of the hands of the grey troll into his and looked into his eyes. “Thank you for everything Branch, I didn’t deserve any of this…But thank you…You have no idea how much having this song back means to me.” As the purple troll said this last part a tear leaked out of one of his eyes before he could even stop it.

The survivalist reached out he gently wiped it away from the face of the spiritual troll, before letting it fall back to his side as he said to Creek. “I understand I really do. I’m glad I could do this for you despite everything which had gone on between us.”

Slowly the guru took his hand out of Branch’s he slipped his arms around the grey troll and hugged him close in a gentle but firm hug. The survivalist took a deep breath he hadn’t been expecting this from him, and then slowly Branch put his arms around Creek holding the other male troll close. Poppy stood in the doorway watching them with wide eyes and her mouth open in shock. Suki took hold of the arm of the arm of the princess, she pulled her away from the two male trolls and into another room so they were alone, hissing at the pink troll as they went. “They don’t need an audience right now.” The two male trolls hadn’t heard anything which was going on around them, they were far too involved in what was going on between them to pay much attention to the two female trolls. 

As they broke this first hug the survivalist gently placed a hand back onto the cheek of the guru, Creek leant into it and he then gently cupped the face of Branch with his hands just as he had on the other side of the glass. “You touched me deeply by singing this song for me, you showed me how to be a better troll Branch…You also made me realise somethings you have a big heart and that I’d like to know the troll I saw on that stage and today much better…Because I know deep down inside my heart I love him.”

Branch thought he had been surprised by Creek earlier but now he was even more shocked than he had been before now. “Creek…You can’t mean that?”  
Vehemently Creek shook his head, he took his hands away from the face of the grey troll then said to the other male troll and gripped the vest Branch wore hard as he said. “But I do and I would never go as far as to say something like that to hurt another troll. Never! I promise you this if you let me in and let me love you I won’t make you regret it.”

The survivalist gulped, letting any troll close to him wasn’t something Branch did with ease, but he knew that Creek meant these words and the grey troll could see that the other troll had come to realisations which had changed things within him for the better. Branch looked away from the guru feeling very conflicted about what he wanted to do or say to the purple troll in this moment in time. The spiritual troll released the jacket, then gently Creek turned his face back towards him, he softly pressed his lips to Branch’s, being careful not to make it long and gentle so that if the grey troll wanted he could break the kiss at any time. When the purple trolls kissed him the survivalist gasped with surprise, Branch quickly found that he liked Creek kissing him, he let out a hum of pleasure, closed his eyes and deepened the kiss a little. The guru was shocked when the other male troll responded to this kiss in such a positive way or that Branch was actually making this first kiss between them longer and deeper than he had intended to make it. Creek decided to enjoy this experience as much as possible, he closed his eyes and moved his body closer to that of Branch bringing the hand which hadn’t been on the face of the grey troll to cling to his other shoulder and let out a small noise of pleasure himself.   
Slowly they broke this kiss, their eyes opened and met, slowly Branch smiled at Creek in the same way he had during the performance, seeing this instantly sent a warm feeling surging through the guru and he said softly to Branch. “Your so handsome when you smile.”

“Thank you.” The grey troll said softly. He was quiet for a moment and then Branch addressed him again admitting in a soft voice. “I enjoyed kissing you Creek.”

“I enjoyed kissing you too Branch.” The guru took the survivalists hands into his before saying to him in an earnest voice. “I love you…I know that I’m saying this quiet soon and I don’t expect you to say it back to me just yet but I want you to understand I mean it, I love you.”

Branch was still as surprised by these words as he had been for the first time Creek had said them, he wasn’t sure what he felt at this time, he knew that being close to the guru like this was waking up strange feelings inside him. Branch wanted to let himself care for the spiritual troll and that he wanted to let Creek become closer to him, but he wasn’t sure if he could call what he was feeling love just yet, but at the same time Branch felt sure that in time those feelings would become love. “I believe you Creek, I really do, but as you say it may take me time to be able to return your feelings and I am glad that you understand that fact.”

“I want you to be comfortable with me so I’m happy to wait until you are ready Branch.” Creek told him gently taking his hands, he kissed the back of one hand and then the back of the other, before carefully guiding Branch out of the booth and the pod of Suki of into the forest were they could be alone together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

After this the two male trolls spent time together, Branch slowly let Creek closer to him, he started in turn to show caring towards the guru, after six months the grey troll surprised the other male troll by asking Creek if he could move in with him and try living with him. Thrilled the guru had allowed the grey troll to move in with him, slowly but surely Branch and Creek had grown used to living together and eventually shared a bed with each other. The grey troll had also started to become involved with life in the village, the other trolls came to see that the survivalist just wanted to keep them safe, they started to listen to his advice on matters concerning their safety and take precautions when they went out into the forest and they even toned their parties down to prevent discovery by those who might be a threat to them.

A year after Branch sang for Creek it was midwinter morning, the grey troll slipped out of the arms of the other troll he put his clothes on, he kissed the troll he loved on the forehead, Branch had been holding onto this confession of love for the purple troll until today because he wanted it to be Creek’s midwinter gift. The survivalist then made his way to the kitchen, he started making their breakfast as he did so Branch began his plans for Creek today and so he started to sing let it snow as he cooked and let the happiness and hope he had been feeling flow over him.

Creek woke, he smiled to himself as he heard Branch singing let it snow while he cooked breakfast for the two of them, the food smelt good. The guru got out of bed, he dressed, then made his way out of the bedroom to the kitchen, Creek put his head into the kitchen intending to say good morning to Branch, but the words died on his lips as he noticed the grey troll was no longer grey he was instead two shades of blue, with amazing teal blue skin and royal blue hair which stood up taller than before and looked like the bud of a flower about to open. “Branch…Branch your blue…” Creek said unable to stop himself make an obvious comment to the other troll.

The survivalist looked at the one he loved standing in the doorway to the kitchen, he smiled softly at Creek as he said gently. “Yes I am…There is a good reason for that.”

“Oh, what is that reason for that my love?” The purple troll asked hardly able to hope that he might be the reason for this change in the troll he loved with all his heart.

The survivalist smiled widely at him and then answered this question as he dished up the pancakes he was making for them. “Well I have my colours back because of you…Because you love me and because I love you in return.”

“Did you just say you love me?” Creek asked him in a shocked whisper.

Branch gave him a nod. “Yes I did…” The grey troll got no further, as the guru threw himself into the one he loved and kissed him very hard on the lips.  
Quickly the guru pulled back blushing brightly. “Sorry…Sorry I didn’t mean to do that I was just so happy to hear you say that you love me.”

The blue troll chuckled as the purple troll apologised to him for his over enthusiastic reaction to his confession of love to him. Gently Branch stroked his fingers through the soft two tone hair of the guru and then said to him gently but honestly. “I love you so much Creek, happy midwinter.” After he said this Branch gently captured Creek’s lips with his own again, the purple troll let out a noise of delight as he always did when the other male troll kissed him and started to kiss the survivalist back loving every moment of kissing him. This was shortly followed by Branch moaning himself, then pulling Creek close to him, the food was forgotten by both of them as they broke the kiss and the guru started determinedly tugging the blue troll back to the bedroom so that they could celebrate midwinter together in style.


End file.
